The Visit
by balthazor66
Summary: This scene happens in the middle of Christmas holiday at Hogwarts. Draco secretly sneaked into Gryffindor Tower, Harry’s dormitory, to give him a visit every single night. Anyway, I'm not good in summaries so just hit into the story!


A HARRY POTTER fanfiction…

**THE VISIT**

By: balthazor66, 2004

Rating: PG-13

Category: Romance

Pairing: Harry Potter / Draco Malfoy [the cutest boy/boy pairing in the history of fanfiction.. heheh ]

Synopsis: This scene happens in the middle of Christmas holiday at Hogwarts. Draco secretly sneaked into Gryffindor Tower, Harry's dormitory, to give him a visit every single night. Draco did this because he was fed up of not being able to express his love towards Harry in public, and could no longer resist the temptation of touching his secret crush at all. Moreover, Draco wanted to comfort Harry, as The Boy Who Lived was in a very weak state because he was getting weird feelings and bad dreams because of his connection with the Dark Lord. Anyway, I'm not really good in summaries, so just hit into the story!

Feedback: What a lovely pairing, Harry and Draco, don't you agree? I just love the two! Oh yeah, I sincerely hope that dear Mrs. Rowling wiill make the two mortal enemies as lovers in her next Harry Potter books, though I know it will never happen even until the end of the century. Anyway, reviews please!

Disclaimer: The characters in this fanfiction, either featured or mentioned, do not belong to me. I don't own them, at all, and I'm so incredibly furious about that . Anyway, enjoy! And don't forget to give your reviews!

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People say that dreams are like your second life. You endure your first life, the real, solid one when you're wide awake in broad daylight, and when you fall asleep at night, you're going to be directly transferred into your second world; the world below your consciousness.

Well, in this case, that theoretical statement doesn't apply to Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.

Every time he lay spread-eagled on his four poster bed and closed his eyes, trying desperately to fall into deep slumber—the one humans normally get when they sleep—he couldn't. A slumber to Harry is a night full of terror, incessant shrieks, horrible laughter, and disgusting images overflowing his head. And not only that, of course, but also a frequent attack of throbbing scar.

He couldn't recall the very first time this unbearable surge of bad nights started. What he conceived was that after the return of Voldemort to full power, he began having weird feelings (which Hermione stubbornly hypothesized as premonitions), finding his scar hurting without any sensible reason, and, the worst of all, he started undergoing this terrible state where he would be getting bad dreams when he slept. He wasn't really bothered about all those awful signs at first, and he kept on telling himself that this was only the consequence he had to withstand as a result of being Voldemort's second worst enemy, but eventually it began to annoy him, and as time went by, his physical stamina fell apart, and he became weak and fragile.

Hell, he couldn't take it anymore.

Tonight was no different. He sprawled out on his bed and closed his eyes, only to find them opening themselves again to let him see that he had been conveyed into another place other than his dorm room at Hogwarts. Utter darkness was all around him; so dark that he couldn't even see his own hands in front of him. He searched his pockets for his wand, but it seemed like he didn't bring it along with him. He looked around with his blur vision, then stretched out his hands to look for his glasses, yet he couldn't feel anything touching his hands.

The boy felt cold. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, trying to get rid of the chills that surrounded his body, meanwhile at the same time he began to hear that same ghastly laughs echoing in his ears again. Then, all of a sudden, a jet of green light flashed right in front of his eyes, then…

Everything went all black once again.

Suddenly, he felt something soft and warm caressing his face, moving up and down his cheek, and finally stopping at his trembling lips. It lifted itself up and rested on his head, ruffling his hair ever so gently as if to calm him down on purpose. He felt something warm wrapping itself around his frail body, and without realizing that he did, he had instinctively relaxed himself inside the welcoming embrace.

Somehow he felt strengthened in feeling the touch, that felt strangely familiar, and it felt as if something was encouraging him to stand firm against everything that invaded him.

He gathered all his courage to open his eyes, and amongst the bleary vision of his hazel eyes, he could see a glimpse of a handsome boy with silver-blonde hair smiling at him while stroking his cheek tenderly with his smooth fingers. he narrowed his eyes to get a better look, but the boy looked away, as if recognizing his sudden awakening. he closed his eyes and opened them again to get rid of the tears that were flooding them, only to find that the mysterious boy had disappeared from sight.

-----

"Harry? What happened? You don't look well," Hermione asked.

The questioned sixteen-year-old boy didn't answer. He gazed duskily at his untouched bowl of steaming hot porridge in front of him, not eager to tuck in and fill his gurgling stomach with something to prevent it from aching.

The Gryffindor trio were having their breakfast in the Christmas-decorated Great Hall. There wasn't a lot of students hanging around inside; most of them had gone home to celebrate Christmas with their families. There were only a few Hufflepuff students playing wizard chess without making any noise on their table and three Ravenclaw girls chattering noisily at one corner while admiring one of the huge Christmas trees that had been richly ornamented by the teachers to live up the Christmas air of Hogwarts.

"Hello-o-o? Anybody home?" Ron flailed his right hand right in front of Harry's dreamy face only to find his effort ignored. He leapt back to his seat helplessly, took a deep breath to calm himself down, then tossed his fork with full force until it thumped hard against his empty plate. "What the heck's happening to you, mate? You've been acting weird like this for quite a long time, you know! You're making us worried about you."

Harry smiled weakly, not moving his stare away from the bowl. "Sorry," was all he said.

"No, sorry's not what we want from you," said Hermione. "We want to know what's bothering you, Harry. It's just not right seeing you acting strange like this all day long for three complete weeks!"

Harry shrugged. "I myself don't know what exactly is happening to me," he said desperately. "It's just that… I'm not getting enough sleep for already three weeks now."

Hermione's halfway-lifted spoon fell back into her bowl of mushroom soup at once. She gazed at him in disbelief, asking, "B-but how come? What's wrong? Why haven't you been able to sleep?"

Harry couldn't reply directly. Should he tell them about his weird dreams that had been haunting him for days?

"Well, you see… it's all because of the dreams I'm having lately," Harry finally decided to answer, after a moment of agitated thinking.

His two best friends' eyes narrowed simultaneously. "_Dreams_?" they shouted in unison.

Harry nodded in silence, ladling himself a spoonful of porridge, trying as hard as he could to eat, though he had absolutely no desire to even taste a single drop of it.

"What kind of dreams?" Hermione inquired anxiously, sounding a bit like Mrs. Weasley. "Nightmares? Or premonition? Or a kind of déjà vu?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not one of them," he said. "It's—it's more like a rush of feelings and old memories that are worth to be forgotten but do not want to be obliterated from my head. And of course from Voldemort's head as well."

Ron flinched when he heard the name 'Voldemort' mentioned, but Hermione wasn't affected at all.

"_Voldemort's_?" she repeated. "B-but what's the connection between your dreams and his memories?"

Harry sighed, pointing at his still-burning scar. "We're connected to each other through this, remember?"

Hermione frowned. "Now I'm the one who's getting apprehensive about this," she said. "Maybe you need some fresh air. What about playing Quidditch with Ron? Or maybe we can go fishing in the lake, as long as it's not frozen solid."

"I guess I can't do any of them, can I?" Harry responded with a weak grin. "Sorry, but if I'm not mistaken Angelina's just told me before the holidays that the Quidditch Pitch is closed during winter, and the lake's definitely frozen, 'cause yesterday I saw Fred and George going ice-skating."

Hermione blew strands of hair from her forehead cynically. "So?"

"I think we should just back off and let Harry think about this alone first, Hermione," Ron suddenly joined in the conversation, munching a raisin-filled pretzel the size of a Bludger.

Harry smiled in hearing this, but Hermione didn't agree.

"Oh, c'mon, don't be blunt, Ron. We can't just leave him now, not in his present state," she objected. "Harry's unstable and weak, and I believe he needs our support to get through this problem, so—"

"Hermione, thanks for being worried about me, but I'm okay now," Harry interrupted. "I appreciate your kindness about me, but I think Ron's right; let me have some quiet time alone to think. Maybe I'll find something worked out. If that still doesn't work, I'll go straight to you guys, alright?"

Hermione looked at him as if she wanted to argue further, but Harry gave her a pat on the back and punched Ron lightly on the shoulder, then rose from his seat to amble out of the Great Hall, leaving his two best friends open-mouthed and confused behind him.

-----

Harry couldn't believe what he had just done; defying his two best friends _on purpose_. Why did he reject their help while on the contrary he desperately needed them by his side? How foolish he realized he had been, but there was no way of changing it now that it had happened. All he could do was think clearly all by himself.

He drifted around the snow-covered side of the lake alone, burying his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat to prevent them of getting any colder, until in the end he stopped to sit on a solitary bench just beside the frozen lake. The rigid winter air that surrounded him didn't help at all in the least; all it did was making him feel even more blue, and cold, and… friendless.

If there was anything in this whole world that could take those sleepless nights away from him, _anything_, he would at once welcome it with his hands wide open, even though he had to receive the most torturous punishment in return for it. He didn't care if he had to swim inside boiling water or stand naked in the middle of the freezing cold Antarctica in order to find the cure for his disease—if it could be classified as a disease—and the truth was that he would do _exactly anything_ possible to get rid of those bad dreams, and, most important of all, to break apart his eternal connection with that bloody Dark Lord.

Unfortunately, that wasn't possible. Even something inside him told him that there was no way of running away from this torture, as he was destined to be what he was right now from the very beginning, even before he was born. At least that was true according to the Lost Prophecy that mentioned his name.

He sighed in helplessness. Bloody hell, he didn't understand.

"Sitting all alone by yourself, eh, Potter?"

The Boy Who Lived was utterly startled to hear that familiarly sneering voice appearing from behind him, and he turned around to find his mortal enemy, Draco Malfoy, standing in front of him, presumptuous as ever with that devilish smile stuck on his handsome face.

The blond smirked, bowing down slightly. "Hello there, Potter. Nice weather we have today, don't we?"

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked coldly.

Draco stepped forward with easiness, approaching Harry with full confidence. "Why are you here by yourself, Potter?" he questioned, staring at the jet-black-haired boy with his piercing gray eyes. "Where's that filthy little Mudblood and that luckless Weasley boy? Aren't they supposed to be your everlasting guardians? Or are they bored of you already?"

"Watch your mouth, Malfoy," Harry said, clenching his fist inside his pocket, trying hard to restrain his building anger. "You sure want your mouth to stay there where it is now, don't you? Or do I have to remove them before you can finally be able to take care of it properly?"

Draco pouted. "You little bastard, don't you dare saying that in front of me!" he exclaimed, his voice raised.

Harry giggled sarcastically, then turned away. "Whatever."

Draco advanced towards Harry, not turning his eyes away from the incredibly gorgeous boy in front of him even for just a second. Finally he sat down on the same bench with him, then rolled a joint.

Harry turned to see him. "Smoking's bad for your health, you know," he commented.

"I know, I know," the blond replied lightly. "I understand it's dangerous, but I just can't stop."

Harry snatched the cigarette from Draco's lips, threw it under his feet, then stomped it flat. "I understand it's hard to stop, but you gotta try from now," he advised wisely. "You surely don't want to lose the precious lungs of yours when you turn forty, do you?"

"God, you sound a lot like my mother just now, you know that?" Draco remarked with a strangely-friendly smile. "And she always does the same thing like what you just did whenever she catches me smoking; take it from me then stomp it under her high-heels. What a coincidence."

Draco glanced at Harry somehow warmly, and Harry, feeling both suspicious and helpless at the same time, stared back at him. Their eyes met, and surprisingly the Boy Who Lived found a glimpse of warm passion Draco Malfoy had never displayed to him during their six years of cold war. It had already taken five precious minutes until Harry finally took the decision of looking away from the transfixing stare of the irresistibly handsome Malfoy heir to break their eye contact.

Harry could feel himself starting to blush uncontrollably. He couldn't believe what had just happened between him and Draco Malfoy. What he couldn't conceive more was that his heart beat a hell of a lot faster when he stared at Draco, and he also felt a strong urge to stretch out his hand and touch the blond, to feel the smooth skin of the boy caressing his eager fingers… but it couldn't be. He couldn't have fallen in love with his own enemy.

No way. No friggin' way.

"I—I think I gotta go," the brunet stood up to leave, but Draco halted him.

"Wait, Potter, just another minute."

Harry nervously turned around, facing Draco, who had been on his feet as well. He smiled at the boy, muttering, "Hope you won't be having another nightmare tonight."

Draco turned around, then walked away, with a victorious grin stuck on his boyish face.

Meanwhile, Harry was still unable to digest what Draco had just said to him just now.

_"Hope you won't be having another nightmare tonight."_

The sentence echoed in his ears over and over again.

"How on earth did he know about _that_?" Harry muttered to himself under his breaths, mixed up and confused.

He didn't know what to do, he truly didn't.

-----

Night had fallen.

The part of a day Harry hated the most had finally come, after a day full of weariness.

The Boy Who Lived lay on his four-poster bed with his glasses on, fixing his hazel eyes to stare emptily at the ceiling. He could hear the prominent sound of Ron's annoying snores coming from the bed beside him, but he didn't care, as he was only thinking about himself right now.

"Please, don't let that nightmare disturb my sleep tonight," Harry muttered in thorough seriousness before closing his eyes unwillingly.

And there he was, in complete darkness once again, folding his arms in front of his chest, shivering because of cold. He could hear the horrible laughter oscillating in his ears for what seemed like the thousandth time in his life, and the jet of green light once again soared towards him, then…

Everything went all black, as usual.

Harry tried to open his mouth to yell for help, but he couldn't even control his lips to part and his vocal chords to produce the faintest sound. His whole body was numb and powerless, and he couldn't even shift, let alone move. Frigid coldness was starting to creep up to him as he stayed on position, yet no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't even move a muscle. Harry closed his eyes, bracing himself for anything worse while hoping that somehow dawn would come early so he would wake up and be free of this torturing nightmare.

Had the dreams evolved to be more aggravating? he thought as he waited in agony.

Then, all of a sudden he began to feel pain; searing pain that felt like chopping him into pieces. He writhed and trembled, trying hard to cry the pain out loud just to lessen the effect, but still his mouth remained shut for no reason.

Harry felt his consciousness beginning to flee. He felt powerless to the bones, and he thought he was at death's door.

If this was dying, then it wasn't that bad, he thought. At least the pain was now leaving him…

But suddenly he felt himself being lifted by an enormous force away from the suffering to real life. The next thing he knew was that he had returned to his dormitory, on his comfortable-as-ever four poster and beside the still-snoring Ron, with beads of sweat drenching his exhausted body. It felt like all his power and strength had rushed back into him after being gone just moments ago. He took a deep breath in relief, thanking no one in particular under his breaths, and with great effort opened his eyes to see…

Draco Malfoy.

W-what the hell—?

He blinked a few times to adjust his vision to the dim lights inside his dorm room, thinking that he was hallucinating as a side effect of the dream he had just encountered, but he could not have been mistaken. It _was_ Draco Malfoy, looking as gorgeous as ever with his pajamas on, sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling from ear to ear while stroking Harry's untidy jet-black hair ever so gently with his slender fingers.

Harry, conscious but totally confused, opened his no-longer-defiant mouth and muttered, "Malfoy?"

Draco looked as though he had just been caught stealing in public in hearing his name mentioned. His pale face went even more pallid, and he instantly rose up from his sitting position, planning to leave at full speed, but Harry was quick enough to hold his right hand to stop him from escaping. The blond was forcefully brought back to his seat, all intense and nervous, and Harry could even feel his hand shaking inside the tight grip.

"_What in the world do you think you're doing here, Malfoy_?" Harry hissed, keeping his voice low enough to prevent Ron from waking up. "You're not supposed to be here at the first place, and what were you thinking when you put your hand on my hair?"

Draco didn't answer. His hand trembled even more frantically, and his breaths became heavier, as if he was on the verge of tears.

"Oh c'mon, for heaven's sake, answer me, will ya?" Harry whispered.

The brunet released his grip on the blonde's hand, and Draco looked as though he was about to try to run away once again, but all he finally did was look down and said, "I—I sneaked up here to—to see you."

Harry's eyes narrowed in shock. "You came here to WHAT?"

"I said I came here to—to see you, Potter. To see you, and—and your handsome face," Draco replied shakily, this time with a tiny sign of confidence building up in his somehow-stuck voice. "I—I came here because—because I miss you."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Was he hearing right when he heard Draco admit that he missed him?

Harry took a thoughtful deep breath. "Explain," he said sternly, his heartbeat accelerating itself beyond control in seeing his unbeatably stunning mortal enemy sitting right in front of him.

The Slytherin boy hesitated for a moment, but he finally gave up to Harry's penetrating stare.

"I—I've been doing this sneaking action ever since the beginning of Christmas holidays, in the middle of the night so that no one will notice me going out of my room and into Gryffindor Tower," he stated. "I got the entry password from that stupid Longbottom, and since then I managed to go to your dorm room unnoticed with only one reason; to see you, here, alone, when no one's watching. I'm tired of pretending, you know, tired of acting as though you're the one whom I resented the most in my life. But, to tell you the truth, you're not like that, trust me. And I couldn't take it anymore. That's why I sneaked up here; to have some free time looking at you, just to satisfy my being addicted to you, and your handsome face."

Harry felt as though the world had turned upside down. "B-but why do you want to see me like this?" he asked, bewildered, though somehow of him had already known the obvious answer for his own question.

And the moment of truth arrived at last.

Draco's gray eyes were locked into Harry's hazel ones when he finally said, "Because… because I love you, Harry Potter."

Harry's stomach gave a jolt when he heard Draco say that particular sentence. Somehow he felt like he had been anticipating the three words to come out of Draco's mouth, and at last he could get to hear it after a long time waiting, but at the same time he also didn't understand at all why he felt that way.

The Boy Who Lived just froze there where he was, flabbergasted, unable to say a single word as a mere response. Speechless as he was, a part of him was steadily telling him to say those three words in return because he knew he had fallen in love with the boy who was there in front of him at that moment; a boy named Draco Malfoy. Nevertheless the rest of him still hadn't recovered from the aftermath of the overwhelming shock just yet, so he couldn't decide.

He felt a soft, warm hand wrapping itself around his own hand, and when he lifted his head to see Draco, he saw utter sincerity on his flawless face.

"Potter?" Draco beckoned tenderly, blushing red like a ripe tomato. "Were you listening?"

Harry barely nodded as an answer. He wasn't lying when he nodded; yeah, he was actually listening, but he didn't know whether what he heard was true.

"So—so what do you think?" Draco inquired, trying so hard not to blush even redder.

Harry's eyebrows joined. "W-what do you mean?"

Draco looked as if he wanted to dig a deep hole on the ground and fall into it so that he couldn't be seen with his face totally brick-red. "I—I said I love you, Potter. Weren't you listening to me?"

"Yeah, so?" Harry couldn't help smiling in seeing his secret love going all clumsy and embarrassed like that. He didn't want to admit it, but he personally thought Draco was cute when he blushed.

The blonde moaned. "Oh, man, what's happening to you? I'm asking you to respond me, Potter! Come on!"

A soft giggle escaped the brunet's mouth. He tried not to burst out laughing, muttering, "Ask me to respond to what, Malfoy?"

Draco took a deep breath. "Y-you know, the statement," he said nervously.

"What statement?" Harry demanded, acting like a fool.

Draco's face went red once again. "My god, do you want me to ask it straight to you now?"

"Uhm… I guess so," Harry replied, playing around with him, eager to see him blushing again. "What is it?"

Draco took a deep breath, cleared his throat nervously, and finally asked in a very, very low tone, "My dear Harry Potter, I, Draco Malfoy, am asking you right now… do you love me?"

"No." Yes, Harry wanted to say. Yes, for all he was worth, he loved Draco Malfoy so damn much it was driving him crazy.

Draco looked utterly disappointed by the look on his face. Harry could feel his spirits starting to flee, and could also hear his breaths getting shaky.

"W-what?" the blonde mumbled in disbelief.

Harry couldn't hold back any longer. He laughed, dashed forward, then planted a sweet kiss on Draco's quivering lips without warning.

Harry could feel that Draco wasn't ready for the sudden attack, proven by the strained tension of his body. But soon he relaxed himself and responded to the incessant kisses Harry was giving him. When they released from each other, Draco looked at the brunet straight in the eye, then asked, "So?"

The Boy Who Lived beamed lovingly at him before saying, "Yes, Draco Malfoy, I do love you."

The two embraced in an everlasting hug, neither one wanting to let go of their strong hold around each other. It was what seemed like forever before they loosened their grip and locked their waiting lips in another passionate kiss.

He heard a soft, amused laughter somewhere in his heart as Draco pushed him gently onto his bed. He knew very well what would happen next.

His eyes didn't move from Draco's as they exchanged warm smiles to each other before falling into another deep kiss one more time.

"I love you," Draco lipped affectionately.

After that, well, there wasn't really any time for thinking.

-----

When Harry awoke the next morning, he felt amazingly fresh. There wasn't any bad dreams disturbing him in his slumber last night, and now that he had gotten an utterly-peaceful sleep for the first time in three weeks, he felt no burden pressing him down, unlike the days before today.

He smiled to himself without realizing that he did.

What a great day today would be, he thought brightly.

He turned his head to the right and saw his love Draco lying beside him without any piece of clothing covering his perfect body, his eyes still closed tight. By the serene expression on his handsome face Harry could tell that he was still submerged in his world of dreams. He brushed strands of silver-blond hair off Draco's face, feeling proud that he had finally find true love in his life in a boy named Draco Malfoy.

He knew perfectly well that he loved Draco Malfoy. He did, he does, and he always will.

Harry was overjoyed. He felt like he wanted to rush to the window, open it wide, and yell at the top of his lungs to let the world know how deep his love to Draco was.

Deep in his heart, The Boy Who Lived felt that he had finally found peace in his life. He was made sure that from now on, the nightmares would soon cease, and even if they didn't, he would not bother to care at all in the least.

He wouldn't care, because no matter what happened, he would still have one person to hold on to: his love, Draco Malfoy.

-----

PS: Awwww,, cute and sappy, isn't it? You know what, I spent a whole night writing this story, and I got stuck for maybe half-an-hour thinking whether the short ending is good enough to be written as an ending. Do you like it? Please stop by and post your comments and reviews regarding this story, alright? Thanks a million!


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